The 26th Victor
by IJeanette
Summary: Margaretha Agate is fifteen years old. She lives in District One, where she has lived all her life. And today is Reaping Day. Today is the day she volunteers.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I pulled my blonde hair back into a ponytail and looked at myself one last time in the mirror. This was it. I stared round my bedroom. This would be the last time I stood in my room at the Tribute Academy. I took a deep breath. No. I could do this. I would do my district proud.

Taking one final look at the picture of my parents which stood on my bedside table, I took the back off the frame and slipped the picture into my shoe, before leaving my room for the last time.

I went downstairs to the foyer where this year's male volunteer stood. Eager to see who was underneath the greatcoat, I skipped up to him and tapped him playfully on the shoulder.

As he turned round, I gave a small scream. Now I could see why nobody had told me who it was. I could handle killing anyone else – Hell; I'd killed three people before I turned twelve – except my brother, Jasper.


	2. Chapter 2

As we made our way to the square, I tried not to look at Jasper. I knew that, if I looked at him, I'd cry, and I had to be strong, at least, for now.

We reached the check-in, and I held my hand out for my finger to be pricked. I winced slightly as the scanner buzzed, and rubbed some of the blood into my cheeks to hide the fact that I had suddenly turned white.

Even by the time I had reached the fifteen-year-old girls' section and was standing in my place, I was shaking.

A tall, thin Capitol woman walked smoothly and calmly up to the podium. She made the usual speech, and then moved first to the girls' reaping bowl. She dipped a gloved hand in, and deftly unfolded a piece of white paper.

Patiently, I awaited my moment, expecting to first hear a name I wouldn't recognise; someone I wouldn't know, to be called. Instead, there was silence, and then the microphone crackled into life. Her voice boomed across the square, and she read out the name on the card.

"Margaretha Agate,"


	3. Chapter 3

A gasp ran round the square, and I nearly fell over where I stood. Yes, I'd have volunteered anyway, but, to be _selected_? Surely, this had never happened before?

I stood up straighter and walked proudly to the front, keeping my head held high as I took the steps and shook hands with the woman.

"Do we have any volunteers?" she said.

"It would have been me," I leaned toward the microphone.

"Oh, well, isn't that something!" she simpered, and I _despised her_. Had I my knife on me, I would have pushed it through her smug throat. But I resisted the urge to strangle her (which was how I killed my first person), instead saving my energy for the arena. I would need it.

"And, now for the boys," she pulled a name out, and I ignored it until I heard my brother call out, "I volunteer!" and saw him marching smartly up to the podium.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Jasper Agate,"

"Ah, so, this must be your sister,"

"Yes," we said together.

"I do believe that this is the first time we have had siblings in the Games! Congratulations to both of you," she turned to the crowd and addressed them, "Happy Hunger Games to you all," she took both our hands and raised them high. "And may the odds be _ever in your favour_,"


	4. Chapter 4

We waited together in an antechamber in the District One Justice Building, and our parents were brought in. Father went to Jasper, and talked firmly to him, but Mother came to me.

"Margaretha," she hugged me, before holding me at arms' length and looking me in the eye. "Be strong,"

I looked down and she pressed a locket that had once been hers into my hand. "Remember what you know, and keep fighting,"

I nodded, before throwing my arms around her and crying. Fifteen wasn't old enough to be in a televised fight to the death. _Fifty_ wasn't old enough, but I was in this now, and that was that.

A Peacekeeper opened the door, and spoke in a harsh tone, "It's time,"

"Goodbye," I whispered to Father. I knew then that I probably wouldn't come out of this alive – I could never have killed Jasper; I'd rather have died myself.

I looked at Mother one more time before she and Father left – in her eyes, I could see sorrow. By the time she was to see either of us again, the other would be dead. "I love you both. Make District One proud," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

I walked along the jetty, through a set of sliding doors, into the train that was to take me away from my parents and away from a secure life.

"You're going to _love_ the Capitol!" the woman said, as we stopped in the corridor.

I rolled my eyes, initial worries now aside. When the Hell were we going to get to the arena? I'd trained my whole damn _life_ for this, and it was taking so _long_! "How long does the train take?"

"Oh, District One's not far from the Capitol – we'll be there in a day,"

A _day_? Was she _kidding_?

Jasper spoke up. "So, can we see the rest of the train?"

"Oh, you'll _love_ it!"

Could have fooled me. Apparently, we were going to _love_ everything. Were we going to _love_ killing people on television? …Actually, that was one of the main things I was looking forward to. Well, that and the glory of victory which I _knew_ would be mine.

Our group stepped through another set of gliding doors, and there were our mentors sitting round a dining table.

The woman introduced us. "Terra Alary," she pointed to a woman with brick-red hair and hazel eyes, "Runyon Lickprivick," to a man with impossibly pale skin and dark hair. "And, last year's victor, Atlas Edenthaw," – this man had sandy-golden hair and grey-green eyes. I remembered him. Sixteen years old, now. My age when he'd won. I knew then that I could do this.


	6. Chapter 6

The mentors spent their time trying to teach us to "make people like you," (Terra) and "make people remember you," (Runyon) – of course they were going to remember us! Proud District One careers, a twin brother and sister, one of whom had been reaped before she had volunteered.

Even if the stylists clothed us in camouflage for the Tribute Parade, the Capitol wouldn't forget us _now_.

I leaned back in my chair. "Why bother? Why bother with all the _crap_ about the Parades? It's about the Games, isn't it? So why can't we focus on _not dying in the arena_?"

"Fine, fine," Atlas said. "Let's focus on tactics. Have you ever killed anyone before?"

"Yes," we both said.

"Right. And was that together, or separately?"

"Only once together. I've killed two of my own and he's killed one, though, in my view, he's a _little weak_," I taunted Jasper.

"I am _not_!" he retorted, grabbing me by the throat, as I leapt backwards in my chair.

I swung my knee forwards and kicked him in the groin. He released his grip, letting me rub the white marks on my neck.

"So, I suggest you work together, and _try not_ to irritate each other," Terra said. "Remember, there can be only one, so don't make it so that you have to kill each other,"

Like that was going to happen – if anyone was going to kill Jasper, it would be me.


	7. Chapter 7

On the morning of the second journey day, we arrived at the Capitol.

The train station was astounding – great, towering white arches, glass and steel, impossibly clean, blindingly bright.

The people were arguably the most interesting thing, however, as I could never list all the shades and tones their clothes and skins embodied – but the implants to their bodies were something else. Feathery false eyelashes with minute jewels on the ends, sharpened teeth, capped with silver; I couldn't believe for the life of me how anyone could want to do that to themselves.

I shuddered at the thought of myself, or Jasper, looking like any of these fashion slaves that inhabited the Capitol.

I looked at the woman who had been at the reaping, and noticed that, compared to these painted freaks, she looked practically normal, even though, since then, she had changed her wig to a mass of aquamarine curls with purple glitter. I raised an eyebrow and turned away.

No matter how skeptical I was of the citizens of the Capitol, however, I had to get them to be on my side. I leaned out of the carriage window and waved, blowing kisses at some, smiling prettily at others.

This was where first impressions would count.


	8. Chapter 8

I walked into the preparation room with my back straight and my chin up.

My stylist was female, about five-foot-six, with coils of copper-coloured hair and purple eyes. "Hello," she said.

"Hi,"

"You must be Margaretha Agate. I'm Silver Greenlaw,"

"Nice to meet you,"

"I can see you're very friendly – we can use that to your advantage," she turned to the corner of the room, where there was a door. "Wren!" she called. "She's arrived!"

A taller woman, with straight spikes of electric blue hair, swept into the room. "Well, I suppose she's not that pretty, but we can work with it,"

_What_?! _This_ coming from a woman with _blue_ hair? How _dared_ she?

"You're one to talk," I snapped back.

She just chuckled, which infuriated me more. "Calm down, princess. We're here to help you. Sit on the table,"

I sat down, and they advanced on me with an array of what looked like instruments of torture.

"We're not going to hurt you. Keep still, and the Capitol will love you in no time,"


	9. Chapter 9

The great doors swung open, and our chariot, being from District One, was the first to roll out. The cheering hit me like a thousand hammers, but I knew that these people loved us.

Wren and Silver truly had made me beautiful – they'd zapped my hair into firm waves of gold; they'd drawn intricate patterns around my eyes with pencil; they'd studded my hair and my corset with precious stones, but, the best part was that they had hung my silver locket around my neck. My skin had been sprayed a soft, sheer blue which shimmered under the light of the moon. Looking up at the sky, I wondered how many more times I would see it before I went into the arena. I guessed five more nights, or maybe six.

I surveyed the crowds, letting them know that I was important, before raising my hand into the air and waving gracefully to the onlookers. I nudged Jasper, and told him to wave, too. As we both waved, and blew kisses, the cheers got louder until it was all I could hear, even drowning out the anthem.

I knew I was perfect, and, with every inch closer to the end of the avenue which we moved, I felt more and more sure that I would have the courage to do what I needed to do – to win.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, I awoke early, got dressed, and made my way to the elevators. Apparently, the boy from Two had had the same idea – he stepped into the elevator as I pressed the button to take us to the rooftop garden.

"Hey," he said.

At first, I ignored him, not even looking up from my nails, which I had been inspecting.

"Hey," he said again, touching my shoulder. I glared at him.

"Get off me!" I snarled.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Or what? You can't kill me here; the Game-Makers will blow you up the second you step off that pedestal. Speaking of which, get down off your cloud. You're just like the rest of us here. You might not make it out,"

"I am _going_ to win," I assured him. "And, if you don't get off me _right_ _now_," I moved my head so that I was whispering in his ear, "You'll be the first I kill,"

He nodded, but I knew he wasn't scared. I grabbed his neck, so he thought I was going to strangle him, but then I kissed him.


	11. Chapter 11

The elevator doors pinged open, interrupting the kiss. I pulled away from him, not removing my hands from his black hair. I glanced out of the lift, before murmuring, "Let's continue this downstairs,", not intending to actually do anything of _that sort_ (who do you think I _am_?)

He took his hand away from the small of my back and pressed the button for his floor. The elevator shot downwards and we continued to kiss until the doors reopened, and someone spoke.

"Margaretha? What are you _doing_?"

I pulled away from him, and whipped around on my heel to see my brother standing in front of the open elevator.

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

"Care to explain?"

"No," I snapped.

Jasper marched into the elevator and dragged me out by my wrist. "What were you doing, you little slut?" he hissed when we were back in our rooms.

"Nothing," I replied, dismissively.

"You were fraternising with that _hick_ from Two,"

"He's _not_ a hick. He's actually quite nice, unlike _you_," I paused to slap his hand away from my wrist. "And when did I become your responsibility _anyway_? I can look after myself,"

"Since Father told me to watch out for you,"


	12. Chapter 12

I gave Jasper a look of contempt. "What makes you think I _need_ looking after?!"

"I don't think it. Father told me to,"

"He _knows_ I would have volunteered, like you did, except they reaped me first! I can look after my damn self!"

Jasper took hold of my wrist again. "I _still_ don't want you with Two,"

"It's not your decision; I can decide this on my own. Go away, I want to get some rest," I started to walk away.

"Oh, I bet you need it," he snapped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hissed.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. Slut,"

"That's rich, coming from you," I stormed back to my bedroom and slammed the door in his face when he tried to follow me.


	13. Chapter 13

I sat down heavily on my bed and took the picture of my parents out of my shoe. "What were you thinking?" I asked them. "You've driven us apart, you've…" I started to cry.

I stopped after a few moments' thought. No. This was not the way I would go about winning. Jasper didn't want an allegiance? Fine. He could fight on his own.

I put the picture back into my shoe and took a piece of paper from the stack by my bed, scribbled "You're on your own, asshole," on it, and slipped it under Jasper's door.

If that didn't send the message, I didn't know what would. Just after I got back to my room, Terra knocked on the door. "Breakfast!"

I sprang up from my bed and whipped the door open, darting to the table and snatching two bread rolls before perching on a seat and stowing them in my pocket. "How was that for fast?"

Terra threw a fork at me. I caught it unflinchingly.

"Not bad," she conceded. "But is speed good enough when you're starving, or freezing? What if you're surrounded? Being quick isn't everything,"

I tore off a corner of one of the rolls, chewed it up and swallowed it quickly. "Starvation? Not likely,"

She laughed. "How's your brother? Are you forming an allegiance?"

"Not with Jasper!" I said quickly. "Someone else,"

"Who?"

"The boy from Two," I replied. "If he'll take me, that is,"

I heard Jasper's mocking laughter. "Not likely. What would he want with you? You're nothing but a sl-"

I didn't give him time to finish before I hurled a plate at his head.

Atlas and Runyon appeared. "Hold on, there!" Atlas caught the plate as quickly as I had caught the fork. "No fighting until you're in the arena,"

I glared at Jasper. "Oh, I'll give them a good show. You wait and see,"


	14. Chapter 14

I didn't speak to Jasper as we ate our breakfasts.

I went into the training room on my own.

Better to sever any links as soon as possible than to be forced to cut them with one of my knives, or a rock. I didn't know what the arena would be like. It wouldn't be a swamp, or desert – those had been the arenas for the last two years. Atlas had known how to navigate the swamp, and, once he'd killed a few hicks at the Cornucopia, he'd just found somewhere to lie low (literally), and waited for the others to cancel out. A damn good tactic, if you asked me.

I stood in front of the speaker, who gave the generic speech about how _I_ would be left alive, and how the rest of them would all die of starvation, or poisoning, or a quick death by my hand. We all stood listening, apart from the air-headed girl from District Two, who stood picking her nails. I leaned very gently against the boy from that morning, and, when it was time to move to the stations, I went with him and asked him his name.

"Kestrel," he murmured, before taking me behind the screens and kissing me to within an inch of sanity, before he pulled back, leaving me ready to scream at him.

"That's all?" I raised my eyebrows and opened my eyes wide at him – it was the best flirting technique I had back at the Academy.

"For now," he ran his hand down my back and walked away. Wow. He was the best I'd had.


	15. Chapter 15

Determined to be ready to show my strengths in the private sessions, I made sure I climbed as many ropes as possible in the training rooms, something which was, at the time, one of my weaker points.

All the time, I could feel Kestrel's eyes on me, taking in my every movement, and every inch of my body. Well, two could play at that game.

I caressed his broad shoulders with my eyes, I met and held his gazes, and I let my eyes wander, but never where I knew he wanted me to look, just so he could catch me out. If he was going to make me wait, so was I.

Jasper, arrogant and pigheaded as he always had been, spent every minute at the weaponry stations, as if he needed any more practice. Even now, I still have a small scar just above my hip, where Jasper had taken revenge with a sword, and sliced about half an inch of my skin off, the bastard. Still, it had worked – I hadn't nicked any of his things again after that, mainly because I couldn't walk for several weeks. He was, of course, on Academy Reprimand for that, but he was still a total dick. 'Why did I even care about him?' I caught myself thinking on multiple occasions.

Kestrel… now, _he_ was something else. _He_ was _mine_.


	16. Chapter 16

I rose early again, although this particular time was deliberate, because Kestrel and I had _arranged_ (so to speak) to meet at the rooftop garden.

How had we arranged it? Well, I'd suggested it, by kissing him the best I'd ever kissed anyone, and whispering to him that there'd be 'more where that came from' if he met me that morning.

I quickly dressed, left the apartment and got into the elevator. I pressed the button for the top floor, allowing my hair to fall loosely around my shoulders – I knew he'd been admiring it during training.

The doors shot open at the rooftop garden, and Kestrel turned round as I walked toward him.

As if in a dream, I took his head in my hands and kissed him, biting his lips softly. "Did you miss me?" I murmured, running my fingers up and down the back of his neck.

"Hell yes," he said.

We kissed until sunrise, and a few hours after that, before we heard the elevator doors open again, and sprang apart to see Atlas, Terra and Runyon standing behind triumphant-looking Jasper.


	17. Chapter 17

Terra was furious as she dragged me into the apartment. "What were you thinking? That's the fastest way to get yourself killed! He's using you to find your weaknesses,"

"How would you know that?" I snap. "It's not as if anyone would kiss _you_," I cross my arms.

"I would knock some sense into you, but I'm not allowed, as your mentor. The key here, Margaretha, is to get people to like you,"

"You were impressed with my speed the day before yesterday," I replied. "You said I wasn't bad. You said you liked me. What's changed?"

Terra shrugged. "Nothing's changed. I still like you. But you'll be on television _all over Panem_ in a matter of days. Live, on air, in front of _the nation_. And you want sponsors. How do you get sponsored?"

"You show them what you can do. I know. I can look after myself, but, thanks," I turned to leave but paused. "What time is it?"

"You have the private sessions in five hours. Get some sleep,"


	18. Chapter 18

I woke up one hour before I was due to make the journey downstairs to the training centre.

Pulling on my regulation neoprene suit, armband and boots, I made my way to the dining table for breakfast. The oatmeal looked appetising enough, considering that it was oatmeal. I took a bowl, and put a few slices of strawberries on the top.

Jasper was already sat at the table, gnawing his way through a plate of roasted groosling legs with sauce. He truly was disgusting, not even bothering to close his mouth between bites, but, then, he never closed his mouth much anyway.

I scraped the chair backwards and sat down, not letting him catch me looking at him. I pointedly grabbed an apple from the bowl, after seeing him reaching for it.

"Hey," he whines, slumping over the plate. "I was going to eat that,"

"Life's a bitch," I shot at him. "Get used to it,"

He pouted, but went back to his groosling – sulky git – with a face like a slapped ass.

"Oh, get _over_ yourself!" I snapped. "Oh, big _deal_, 'I'm Jasper Agate, ooh, I volunteered for the Hunger Games when I _knew_ my sister was going to, oh, look at me and this dilemma!' Asshole,"

He left the table.

I had won that one.


	19. Chapter 19

"Margaretha Agate," my name crackled over the intercom as a set of double doors slid open.

I stood up and made my way through, turning round as someone said, "Good luck,"

I turned round; expecting it to be Jasper, but it was Kestrel. "Thanks. You too," I smiled for the first time that morning.

I glanced at Jasper, who was sitting, leaning towards the girl from Two, his arm draped around her shoulder. What did he see in her? Her face looked like I'd taken a blunted knife to it and repeatedly thumped her in the nose with it, instead of stabbing her.

I sighed and stepped into the large, metal-walled room. On a large balcony, artificially lit, sat twenty Game-Makers.

Oh, shit. This was it. I was the first tribute. I had to make them _remember me_.

"Margaretha Agate," I introduced myself. "District One,"

They leaned forwards attentively, and I selected a knife from one of the stands. Aiming carefully at the centre of the first target, I straightened my back and swung the knife back from the blade, before hurling it across fifteen metres of the room. It hit the target with a crack that echoed, even to the balcony.

I knew they were impressed. Now for the _real_ show. I donned a knife belt and climbed quickly up to the lowest part of the ceiling, taking hold with my feet before hanging down and throwing a knife at each of the five remaining targets, striking each one true.

Then I flipped myself over and dropped back to the floor, turning as I did so, landing with my hands on my hips.

I curtseyed. "Thank you," I left.


	20. Chapter 20

I took a seat in front of the wall-to-wall screen and took another piece of fruit from the bowl on the table – a pear this time.

Jasper sat, sulking, his arms folded, at the other end of the couch. Apparently, he'd not done so well in the trials. It served him right for being an arrogant bastard.

Suddenly I sat up as the anthem played. As the girl from One, my score would be announced first. My face appeared on the screen.

A voice announced, "Margaretha, District One: A score of twelve,"

I whooped and Atlas slapped me congratulatorily on the back. Then I sat back again and looked at Jasper, who was clearly surprised.

"Jasper, District One: A score of six,"

Terra and Runyon gasped, looking at him sympathetically.

"What? I slipped, and I missed a target," he explained. "I was doing well until then. I've still got a chance, right?"

"Possibly," Atlas said. "But you have to keep practising. Don't go to the Cornucopia at the cannon,"

"Can _I_ still go?" I asked.

"Of course you can!" Terra beamed. "You deserve to win!"

I smiled, and turned to the screen again just as Kestrel's face was appearing, beside a score of eleven. I tried to hide my pride in him, but Runyon noticed, and tutted loudly.


	21. Chapter 21

After supper that evening, it was back to the stylists, to be prepared for interviews with the hostess, Sandra Silklace.

Again, I was up first – definitely a good thing – ready to talk to Sandra.

I was wearing a strapless, figure-hugging lilac-blue shot silk dress that flared out into white and silver netting, with feathers around the skirt. My hair was pinned up with a few cascading curls that fell around my shoulders.

"Well," said Sandra, leaning back in her chair. "Margaretha. I hear you're the first volunteer to be reaped,"

"I am,"

"Would you say that gives you an advantage?"

"Well, people remember me, don't you?" I turned to the audience, a sea of every colour I could imagine, and then some. They roared their approval. "I'd say that will be _very_ useful."

"So, tell us. Is there anyone back home?"

"Not back home, no…"

The audience murmured, trying to understand what I meant.

"Then where? In Space?" Sandra chuckled.

"No. Here,"

Sandra, and everyone in the audience, gasped. "Who?"

"Kestrel. District Two,"


	22. Chapter 22

I left the stage, flushed and panicked.

I passed Kestrel, who was wearing a black suit with a bright blue silk tie and shoes that had been buffed to perfection.

He had evidently heard everything, and smiled at me. "Later," he mouthed, and I nodded.

I watched the rest of the interviews standing with the girl from District Two, who was small, with copper-coloured hair and blue eyes.

"Hi," I said. "What's your name?"

She looked at me, smiled, and told me, "Pommeline Jardine,"

"That's an awesome name," I beamed, "You will do great things,"

She looked a little sad, and shrugged. "Maybe,"

Of course. How stupid of me to say that. Nobody in the Games talked about the future – it was a sign of bad luck. I slapped my hand over my mouth. "Sorry,"

"No, it's OK. How old are you, then?"

"Fifteen," I replied. "You?"

"Thirteen,"

"Shit. Did you volunteer?"

"Yeah. I'd been at the academy since I was five. I wanted to get out of that hellhole," she shuddered, and I could sense that she'd had a particularly bad experience.

I suddenly felt bad for having thought of her as an air-head.

"Aw. You got any ideas for allegiances?"

"Well, Kestrel, obviously, and… is it OK if I say not your brother?"

"It's fine. I was planning to kill him quickly anyway,"


	23. Chapter 23

Two days before the arena, we took our private training sessions, me with Terra, Jasper with Atlas.

I went into the training room and sat on a plinth.

Terra stood by a set of ropes. "Right," she said. "Get up; I want to see you climb these as fast as you can," she clicked a stopwatch, and I sprang to my feet, gripping the rope with my hands, knees and feet.

I managed to get to the top of an 8m rope in 32.7 seconds – I was pretty pleased with myself, until Terra said, "That's all well enough, but you need to be faster,"

I just looked at her "Do you _want_ me to die?"

"No," she replied, "Do you?"

I climbed back down the rope, went back to my seat, and started again. This time, I took 31.6 seconds.

"Better," she remarked. "Keep going,"


	24. Chapter 24

The night before we went into the arena, I couldn't sleep. At eleven o'clock, I stood up and went to my door, but the mentors had locked it.

I damned them.

There was no chance of me sneaking out to see Kestrel that night, then.

I went back to bed, and lay awake until dawn, when I decided I couldn't be bothered with trying to sleep anymore, and I got up.

I tried the lock again, and the door opened. I was thrown for a moment, but hen I realised that they were timed locks, designed to stop tributes escaping, and, I don't know – jumping off the top of the building, or, I guessed, sneaking out to see other tributes.

Apparently, in one of the earliest Hunger Games, one of the female tributes had announced that she was pregnant during the countdown, and she nearly caused another uprising. The Gamemakers 'dealt with' her pretty quickly after that.

I didn't want to end up like she did – beaten to death in some Capitol prison.

Beaten until she stopped twitching.


	25. Chapter 25

I silently approached the countdown tube, and stepped into it, watching Wren and Silver, who were watching me.

Suddenly, the tube slammed shut with a sharp hiss, and I started to rise.

I found myself in a huge area of scrubland; I and the other tributes were on black podia, surrounding a huge black cone filled with weapons and food – the Cornucopia.

I looked across the ring at Pommeline, who was shaking slightly, but was otherwise calm. I knew her plan already – pretend to be weak, and then be brutal. Lots of tributes did it.

There wasn't a drop of water in sight, and the scrub stretched away as far as the eye could see. No trees. No bushes. Just rocks.

The countdown started – ten… nine… eight… seven… six…

I knew my destiny, and poised to run to the centre.

Five… four… three… two…

_Boom_…

The girl from six, both tributes from seven, and the boy from eight were no longer on their podia.

One…


	26. Chapter 26

I tried to put the Bloodbath out of my mind, but the blood still clung to my skin, and the smell of death held fast to my clothes and hair.

I ran from the Cornucopia as fast as I could, and collapsed, shaking, behind a rock some two hundred meters away.

I hadn't even listened for the cannon.

The dirt lay loosely under my feet, I drew circles in it, absentmindedly, and suddenly realised that I could brush it away with my hand. Intrigued, I swept the grit up, and found a stone slab.

I brushed the dirt back into place, to keep my discovery under wraps, and crouched behind my rock until I could see that the coast was definitely clear.

I looked around to make sure nobody had seen me, and ran back into the centre, looking for Pommeline and Kestrel.

As I reached the ring, I saw the hovercrafts flying overhead.

I found my allies searching the Cornucopia for supplies that could be useful.

"How many dead?" I said, picking up a rucksack and a knife-jacket.

"The ones that jumped," Pommeline told me. "And five others – the girl from three, the boy from four, both from eleven, and the girl from twelve,"

Nine. Fifteen of us left in the arena.

One of whom was the most dangerous and unstable person I had ever met – Jasper.


	27. Chapter 27

"I've found something," I said. "Come with me,"

Pommeline pulled her hair back into a loose plait, and followed me and Kestrel out of the Cornucopia.

I lead the two of them to the rock where I had found the slab. "I need your help," I brushed away the dust, and continued, "I can't lift this on my own,"

Kestrel tapped it with his foot, and it slid back. I leapt backwards, slightly alarmed at how I could so easily have fallen in.

"Maybe you won't need to," he half-smiled at me. "Come on – shall we look at what's inside?"

There was a metal ladder, which we climbed down into the ground.

Once inside, we saw that we were in a form of cave, with reinforced walls and a fortified entrance. Obviously it hadn't been locked when we'd found it, but there was a strong locking system over the slab.

There were a few bunks fixed to the walls, and shelves with tinned food and cans of water.

We could have stayed there for years and been comfortable.


	28. Chapter 28

As the sun went down, I locked the trapdoor, and got into my bunk. It wasn't the most comfortable bed I'd ever had, but it was probably better than anything the other Tributes would be sleeping on that night.

I thought of Jasper, and how he would be sleeping in the dust, in the shelter of a rock, if he was lucky.

"Light out?" Kestrel asked Pommeline and me.

I nodded, and Pommeline reached over for the switch.

"Night, then," I said as the cavern was plunged into darkness.

I hadn't been asleep more than about an hour, when I woke up to see Kestrel, staring at me from his bunk on the other wall.

"You all right?" he whispered.

I nodded. "What is this place, do you think?"

"Some kind of bomb shelter. I don't really know," he paused, and then whispered, "Look at Pommeline,"

I leaned over the side of my bunk, to Pommeline's bed. She looked very small, curled into a ball. "She's so young,"

It hadn't really registered with me before, but it did now. She was so young. Too young…


	29. Chapter 29

Kestrel went out at dawn to hunt for food. He came back at sunrise, with several fish and… the boy from three.

"I thought he could help us with the electricity," he explained.

"Kestrel, there are only three bunks," I pointed out. "Where's he going to sleep?"

"He'll sleep on the floor," Kestrel said, "if he wants to keep breathing,"

The boy looked alarmed – he couldn't have been more than Pommeline's age, and he obviously hadn't volunteered. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"First, I want you to tell us how many died last night," Kestrel snarled. "Who's gone, and who's left?"

"The boy from five, the girl from four," he stammered, "the boy from ten, the girl from nine, the boy from twelve – they've all died. I think that's it,"

Only ten left – me, Pommeline, Kestrel, the boy from three, the girl from five, the boy from six, the girl from eight, the boy from nine, the girl from ten… and Jasper.

"Good," Kestrel snapped. "Now, fix up a video link to the fatality screen," he watched, waiting for the boy to start, and shouted, "_Now_!"


	30. Chapter 30

On the third evening we spent in the cavern, we opened up the trapdoor and watched the sky as the anthem blasted across the arena.

Jasper had been on a killing spree: five had died – five, six, eight, nine and ten. Just our group and Jasper remained.

"I think we can keep track from here," Kestrel said, before grabbing Three's head and twisting it sideways. I heard a sickening crack of the bones in his neck, and then the boom of the cannon.

Pommeline shuddered, and went pale. "Now what?" she whispered, her throat hoarse. "There's only four of us left. Where do we go from here?"

"We'll have to split up," I said. "That's all we can do,"

"We've had a good run," Kestrel stroked my hair, and smiled sadly at Pommeline. "We can say we've died gloriously, in the final four,"

"Let's split the food between us," I suggested. "And… if we can… shall we take it from each other if we die?"

Kestrel nodded. "Come on. Five tins each, and we'll burn the rest. Starve Jasper out,"


	31. Chapter 31

Kestrel climbed up the ladder with the last rucksack, and took a box of matches from his pocket.

"Have you put the petrol down, then?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Are you ready with the trapdoor?"

I put my foot over the button, and pressed it as Kestrel struck a match and threw it down the hole.

There was a sudden burst of orange flame, but this was covered by the stone hatch as it slid into place.

"Goodbye," I said. "And good luck," I kissed Kestrel on the cheek.

Pommeline threw her arms around my shoulders. She seemed even younger at that moment, if that was at all possible. "Win for me," she ordered.

I nodded solemnly. "I'll try,"

The three of us embraced, and a knot formed in my stomach – I would rather have died at Kestrel's hand than left him, but there was no way he would have killed me, as I found out a moment later.

"If it comes down to us, Margaretha," he swallowed hard. "Let me die,"

I was shocked, and shook my head. "No!"

"I mean it," he held me at arms' length, and looked me in the eyes. "You have to win,"

I nodded, and then we went our separate ways.


	32. Chapter 32

The night I left Pommeline and Jasper, I went in search of somewhere to hide. There was a cluster of trees several miles away from the cavern, and, after two hours of walking, and sometimes crawling, across barren land, I found them.

I climbed up the branches to the highest part of the only tree which I thought safe, then tied myself onto the trunk with a length of rope I had in my rucksack.

I watched from my perch, as, first Kestrel, then Pommeline, passed underneath the tree.

I felt a pang of sadness, knowing that only one of us would make it out, and neither of them would let me die. I tried and failed to understand why that would have been.

Later, Jasper built a small fire under my tree. The idiot used green leaves, which smoked like crazy.

The column of smoke rose right up to my branch, which was some sixty feet off the ground – one of the few achievements of the Games of which I am now proud – and I had to force myself not to cough.

I had my knives in my jacket, and took one in my hand in case I should need it.

Hardly daring to breathe, I untied myself and climbed along the branch to the next tree. However, I'd not noticed that the bough had rotted through, and, as I stepped on it,, it snapped under my foot, and I found myself plummeting to the ground.


	33. Chapter 33

Surely, there was no feasible way that Jasper could have seen me fall – he had gone when I opened my eyes.

I lay, in shock, on the ground for some time, before I finally got to my feet and stumbled through the trees to the clear ground. I staggered over the dust, and made my way to the Cornucopia.

I passed Capitol-grown bushes – they had certainly not been there at the beginning, and took some berries (I made sure they were OK. I'd read up on poisonous plants in my spare time) and some leaves.

I put a leaf in my mouth and chewed it as I walked.

Kestrel had found fish, I knew – that meant there had to be a stream or something not too far away. I made up my mind to look for it.

The bushes became sparse as I continued on my way, so I crouched low to the ground and crawled along to avoid being seen.

Just when I though I couldn't spend much more time without water, I realised that the ground was damp. Filled with hope, I moved a little faster, and came to a fast-flowing brook.

I reached into my bag for the canteen, but it was not there. Jasper had taken my food and water and run.


	34. Chapter 34

I leaned into the brook, and scooped up some water with my bare hands. I was just about to drink it, when I leapt back and howled in pain. The water was – somehow – burning my hands, and I had no safe water left in my rucksack. This was something that the Game-makers had done, I was sure.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, realising that I had probably given away my position at mortal cost, but then the skin on my hands and face started to blister.

In a desperate bid for pain relief, I put all of the leaves and berries into my mouth at once. I chewed them up and spat them out into my hands. Disgusted, even though I knew I had no choice in the matter if survival was going to be an option, I smeared the mush around my lips.

Slowly enough that I almost thought it wasn't happening, the blistering started to clear up.

I sat, exhausted, by the brook, for several minutes, and I was going to move on any moment, when I heard screaming.


	35. Chapter 35

I sprinted over the dirt, and I saw Pommeline at the Cornucopia. She was lying on the ground, her red hair splayed in the dust. Jasper was standing over her, sword poised at her throat.

"Where's the slut?" he snarled, pressing the point slowly into her skin. "Where's Margaretha?"

"I don't know!" she wailed. "Please believe me! I don't know!"

"Not good enough," Jasper snapped, before slicing the skin of her throat open.

I whipped a knife out of my jacket, and hurled it at his head, before running to Pommeline.

Jasper collapsed, sword arm outstretched toward me, as I heard the cannon. The knife had split his skull, killing him instantly.

"Pommeline!" I cried, falling to my knees behind her. "Stay alive. Stay with me, Pommeline!"

I knew it was futile, but something in me still held on to some scrap of hope that she might not have died. It was useless.

She looked me in the eyes. "Win," she whispered, before taking her last breath, and lying still, her blue eyes half-open.

The cannon boomed in the distance.


	36. Chapter 36

So this was it. This was what it came down to.

I'd killed my brother, and the closest person I'd ever had to a sister was being carried away in a hovercraft.

I looked up at the sky before I screamed her name, "_Pommeline_!"

I took one of my knives, and carved, "Here fell Pommeline. A noble fighter," in the soil.

Afterwards, I curled in a ball inside the Cornucopia, sobbing. Pommeline had been so _young_. So small. And she was dead.

How many others had I not noticed?

How many had been so innocent?

How many had been slaughtered, their stories left unfinished, their names forgotten?

Night drew in as Kestrel appeared at the mouth of the Cornucopia.

"They're in a hurry to finish it," he said.

"They're not going to," I told him.

"Yes, they are," he showed me his arm. It was covered in black marks. "Septicaemia,"

He was going to die. Leaving it until they were forced to let us out of the arena wasn't an option anymore.

I took another knife from my jacket, and handed it to him. "Do it," I said. "Let me die here,"

He shook his head.

Then he bit his tongue, hard.


	37. Chapter 37

Kestrel lay, slowly bleeding to death, in my arms.

"Remember me," he murmured. He would take his last breath any time.

"It won't come to that," I lied. The tears started.

"No," he took a long, laboured breath. "I mean it, Margaretha," he spat blood out of his mouth. "Tell them... about... me..."

I shook my head. "You're going to live! I promise," I sobbed. "I promise,"

"Kiss me one last time," he rasped.

I leaned toward him, and, as I kissed him, a cannon fired.

A voice boomed across the arena. "Ladies and Gentlemen of Panem – your twenty-sixth victor: Margaretha Agate,"

_The End_


End file.
